Dibs
by Shieldage
Summary: Shortly after 'Amends', Xander saves Sunnydale, accidentally stranding Death's Granddaughter in his reality. All Susan Sto-Helit wants is to go home, but the First Evil is blocking her way.
1. Library

BtVS by Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Discworld and denizens by their author, Sir Terry Pratchett. Elements of the Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling also appear.

As with most of my longer stories this has undergone several rewrites, most notably the change from third to first person. This takes place in the calm period before the discovery of two dead children and Buffy's eighteenth birthday. Nothing really exciting has happened since Christmas.

* * *

**Xander Harris:**

_Season 3, January 1999_

##

Life was not being fair to me.

After my latest attempt at romance had ended with my awkwardly trying to unhook a girl's bra and her third hand helping me out, I had decided to spend the night locked in the library cage... a barrier between me and the cruel, demon-filled world.

I heard the male voices chanting as soon as I opened the double doors of Sunnydale's High School library. This left me two choices:

I could either flee and try futilely to contact the Slayer... When was that girl ever going to carry a beeper?

I could succeed in contacting Giles at home, by which time the ritual might be over.

Or, recounting the possibilities, I could investigate myself. Quietly.

I weaved my way through the dense stacks and moved some books on a shelf, to see a bunch of teenagers in dark cloaks with pointed hoods chanting over an immense cloak fit for the Grim Reaper.

The cloak was laid in the center of a summoning circle made not out of the regular chalk, or blood, but rare herbs and silk thread. I could identify the components by the labeled crates and jars marked 'rare herbs' and 'silk thread' the intruders had stacked against the back wall.

I was angry. This was our library, none of the other students had a right to come in, let alone perform _stuff._

The leader finally finished reading the ancient language in the grimoire he was holding and proceeded to give the necessary exposition:

"The spell is done. Now all we need to do is anoint the cloak with fresh blood and the Death most willing to claim the donator will appear before us. As we have predefined this Death," the members nodded and pulled up the long sleeves of their cloaks to reveal matching tattoos. "A simple slice across will be all that's needed to bring him screaming into our reality and lead us to conquer this world!"

As the cheers sounded, I, the lucky eavesdropper that I was, mulled this over.

Hmm... Snake-oozing-from-a-skull tattoos, unfamiliar, but... Immense dark cloak... Oh, that Harry Potter book in the corner, that cinches it.

Yes, the books were fresh and popular; yes, I had flipped through them. No, I did not like the writing particularly. Worse, they were yet another way for demons to get their helpless victims to come with them quietly.

What child, upon finding something impossible floating over their bed, could resist an offer like Hogwarts, even if they knew, deep down, the books were fiction?

Two out of the last fifteen...

##

Furious, I charged the bookcase in front of me... They were not about to bring a wraithy attempted-baby-slayer into the world if this Harris had anything to say about it!

I bounced off the heavily laden shelves, but that only sent books flying in several directions.

Darn... it always worked in the_ movies _and I'd just blown my cover.

My attempt at crushing the would-be Death-Eaters did succeed in heavily beaning two of them, but the rest charged around the bookcase to confront me as the leader stayed and readied the knife.

As they reached me, I finished clearing one shelf of some particularly tall books and tried to dive through to the other side.

The redheaded leader intercepted my movement, grabbing my arm and dragging me forcibly through the case to land heavily on the ground.

The fall had enough force to knock the wind out of me, leaving me vulnerable to a series of kicks. I managed to grab his foot and send him sprawling to the ground.

I couldn't see it, but, as he was crawling towards the symbolic cloak, apparently trying to reach it and finish the ritual, he was actually fishing something out of his pocket.

When I came to my feet and grabbed for the crawling man, he dropped his knife and turned his body to face me, swinging his fist as he moved.

Shiny metal connected with my forehead and I fell to the ground, the blow from the hastily-worn brass knuckles was strong and I hadn't much time to prepare...

The leader backed up, to the center of the circle, as his troops charged back around to where they were...

He was about to draw the knife across his tattooed forearm, but, suddenly, I was there, grabbing the knife by the blade.

_This has got to be the one of the dumbest ways in which I've saved the world_ I thought to myself_. But even if I can take this guy out, any of these freaks could finish the ritual._

##

They all stood there, in a frozen tableau, as the first drops of my Scooby blood fell to soak into the cloak.

I let go of the knife and kicked my redheaded opponent out of the circle as a mighty wind rose up and the thread and herbs caught fire.

"You idiot!" one of the bookworms yelled. "That stuff cost three thousand dollars!"

The cloak rose up in front of me... I backed up slightly, but chose to stand my ground rather than approach the fanatics.

"**DAMN**," a voice intoned as the summoned being's feminine hands reached up and pulled back the hood that was suddenly covering her head.

A wave of white-blond hair with a single black streak poured around her shoulders as she said: "You all are very lucky that you didn't try this a few minutes earlier. If you had, a bunch of kids would have been stuck years before their birth at the sacking of Perseoplis instead of just being left in a suddenly teacherless classroom. That would have made me_ angry _instead of just pissed off."

"Who are you anyway?" she frowned, looking at the assorted faces.

"Uh, I'm not with them," I assured her. "Lone, unarmed guy versus group in dark hoods with tattoos. Oh, and look, bloody knife."

"You are going to pay for what you have done!" the redheaded teenager yelled as his neighbors helped him to his feet. "Get them!"

The new arrival and I had a moment to prepare ourselves as the failed cultists considered the wisdom of attacking a 'Death'.

They finally decided that the black-haired young man and the 'helpless' girl would be no match for _all_ of them.

Us two in the circle had a moment of understanding and stood back-to-back, ready to face whatever happened next.

"My name's Xander," I said, my hand still dripping blood to the floor.

"Susan Sto-Helit," she answered, three lines burning brightly on her face as we met the first wave of attackers.

##

Yep, Life was not being fair to me, but maybe with Death I'd have a fighting chance.


	2. Mid-Moment

BtVS by Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Discworld and denizens by their author, Sir Terry Pratchett.

* * *

**Susan Sto-Helit:**

##

I might have thought more about where I was, but I was busy.

I, not to mention the guy at my back, fought furiously, so those that had attacked us had to draw back and regroup. We were still outnumbered six-to-one and, worse yet, I was fighting barehanded.

'Iron Lily', my gym teacher years ago in Quirm, had not let any of 'her girls' off easy, but I preferred weapons you could really _believe_ in.

The young man was obviously no slouch either. He was using moves that felt like they'd been practiced on stuff far stronger than men.

It wasn't going to be enough, however.

##

Given two minutes, the black-robed group could have wiped the floor with us, exacting revenge for exactly whatever had happened.

Fortunately, I only needed three seconds to be fully alone, no matter how many people were in the room.

I did not use the voice, not yet at least. Instead, I did the one thing that had always felt natural, something which might the only one of my powers which truly came from _me_ rather than a reflection of my grandfather.

Making the best use of the small and momentary space in front of us, I closed my eyes, stuck my arms straight out in front of me and physically pushed... time... to... a... crawl...

##

When I opened my eyes, I was happy I'd taken the risk. This new place felt _off _somehow, somehow _tainted_, but I still had been able to enter the space between moments and all around me were frozen mid-motion.

I frowned as the air of the foreign place grew to be hot and cloying, a far cry from the familiar stillness and the feeling of brushing past pine needles on a mild winter's day.

No matter, it wasn't as if I could live in the fraction of time I was moving about in, anyway.

Exist eternally? Sure. But that's not life.

Feeling something I spun around and noticed that my view seemed to drag somehow, as if there was a dark cloud doing its best to keep just out of my view. Something moving behind the world.

When nothing further seemed to happen, I took the time to peer under the hoods of the young men who had been fighting us, until I was certain I could sketch their faces at a later date. No reason to let something like that slip me by.

We were surrounded by loose boxes and piles of books and supplies. I was fairly certain that the ritual that had brought me here would be written down in one of the books or a scrap of paper in the clothes of the red-headed leader, but that could take some time to find. Deciding to start with the heaviest item, I grabbed the black-haired man I knew only as Xander and dragged him, carefully, out of what remained of the circle and through the shelves of books.

_First step, move those in danger to safety. Second, move useful tools to a hidden cache. Third, disarm the aggressors and search and bind them as necessary. Although they didn't appear to be carrying wands, some of the book covers showed them in use. Can't be too careful. I don't know where I am, _I thought._ But this being a Library only makes sense, the space between worlds would be thin anyway..._

I paused to wave my hand quite close to the bindings of the books. "Haven't seen people wearing your clothes before," I told Xander, despite him not being able to hear me. "And I wanted to see if we were in your territory or mine. If we were in an offshoot of the practically infinite space within the Unseen University, I rather think the books would have rustled when I came close, despite being put on hold. If they didn't outright attempt to eat me. Well, here's the end of them."

When I stepped out of the shelves and into a large room and saw the double doors at the far end, I carefully leaned Xander against a shelf and spent a few seconds scanning the area for a good place to store him and the ritual tools once I'd retrieved them. _The safest place to thaw him out when all is said and done is probably through those doors,_ I mused._ But something is telling me I'm _somehow _almost out of time..._

##

The darkness that had been at the edge of my vision drew close around me and seemed to grow in depth and form and _awareness. _When I realized that I had been _seen_, an immense fear welled up from some deep part of me.

As a child-rearing governess, I knew the flavor of it well. Inside the small world that children drew where the sky was _blue_ and the ground was_ green _I had seen grown men fall prey to their oldest fears, but this simply wasn't one of mine. I had inherited certain things from my grandfather, things carried in the soul and the bone, and this felt as deep as any of them...

_Funny,_ I thought, the danger filling my head with an icy clarity. _It never occurred to me that Death could have a childhood-_

##

I might have thought more, but the darkness had sprung.


	3. Library II

BtVS by Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Discworld and denizens by their author, Sir Terry Pratchett. Elements of the Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling also appear.

* * *

**Xander Harris:**

##

As I realized I'd been moved closer to the rest of the school, Susan Sto-Helit staggered into my arms.

Her face was ashen, with what seemed to be fingermarks standing out in stark relief. Sweat poured down past her fluttering eyelids as she passed out.

If this was what teleporting did to her, I was surprised she had done it before it had been a last resort. Then again, I couldn't equate the agony I found in her face with the calm expression I'd just seen out of the corner of my eye.

Could someone have looked that peaceful when preparing themselves for so much pain?

Nah, it must have been this place that had turned her powers against her... "Damn Hellmouth," I griped aloud as I tore off my outer shirt and wrapped it around my hand to staunch the flow of blood.

If I was going to follow through on my plan to hide us the _last_ thing I wanted to do was leave a trail.

##

I dragged the unconscious woman over to the library cage and propped her against the grating, then ran to Giles' desk. I had barely fished the key out of the drawer, opened the locked door, pulled her inside the cage, locked it behind us and covered us with the large blanket our friendly, neighborhood werewolf used when he was cold, when the angry mob burst from the stacks.

Muffled by the thick blanket, I heard voices and the rattling of the cage, but then the cultists were gone, off into the night.

When she finally came to, I asked if she was okay and if she felt like going someplace for help, or maybe research.

She mumbled 'yes', so I drew her to her feet and unlocked the cage door.

##

As we walked, I kept an arm about her waist until we were well outside the school.

* * *

**James Allbright:**

##

Life was not being fair to me. I wanted to break something.

We had the black-haired man and the blond girl surrounded and then... 'poof'. No 'Sander' or 'Susan Stove' or whatever they'd said when they had kicked my friends away.

Either the portal was two-way, which didn't seem possible, or they'd jumped from here to outside the library.

A lost newcomer wouldn't know where to jump, so they probably weren't very far away...

Grabbing the books in haste, along with the few materials that still had potential use, I and my fellow cultists ran through the stacks, carelessly hitting the sides as we passed, to emerge in the large and empty room.

Snarling with rage, we swarmed over the nooks and crannies, looking under desks, kicking open doors...

I, the redheaded leader of the pack, rattled the grating that blocked off a side of the room, but the door was locked and that alone led me to dismiss the library cage as a potential hiding place.

We swarmed out through the double doors, only to have a black-haired woman block our path.

"I felt your spell," she cried. "You should have tried to summon me, rather than the bitch or the wight. I am the only one who belongs in this world and I invite you to worship me."

"Give us one reason why we should."

The pale woman swirled her flower-print dress and her features drifted away in a wisp of smoke, replaced by the freshly scrubbed face of a blond-haired woman.

The youngest among us, a short and underfed boy, stepped forward and raised his head to stare her directly in the eyes. "Mom?"

I shook my head, for I knew the woman; her death was how Tom had been recruited to our group.

"You're not her," I announced, stepping bravely forward. "You're not even the vampire-her. I staked you myself."

"As for you," she replied, staring me directly in the eyes as she changed.

There was the impression of glowing eyes, of teeth and horns and feelers.

It was hard to tell for certain, for the image was around us, flowing _through_ us, as if we were nothing but shadows and it was the only real thing in the world.

##

I had certainly felt anger before, against the world around me, but mainly against myself; all the stuff I internalized. My cult wasn't based so much on my identification with Voldemort as much as my identification with the man he'd merged with...

Having that much power run through you until the line between it and yourself was blurred? That was what I craved.

Finding someone greater you could blend with, merge with, until either nothing of you was left, or... Or you were one with it, only a single drop of power running through its veins, but still as much a part of the new creation as the original bits...

The male wraith had been the only 'Death' I'd known of, in fiction or otherwise, who could meet this _need_. Maybe I should have read more nonfiction...

The others had joined my group for varying reasons, but there was one constant that made them prey to this entity's all-consuming rage... this anger... this _cold_:

_Change or nonexistence... Worth it..._

##

She was gone, but we still heard her voice.

"They are behind you, but she does not yet feel true pain. When she is broken, she will be more... _edible_. You will be my hands in this world, but you are not yet strong. You do not serve me above your pleasures and your pain."

"This will change."

As a single body, we left the High School and ran across Sunnydale, towards the spot, the hole in the ground, where we would be remade.

The lot was empty, Christmas weeks past, the trees scattered to the four winds of the Earth.

The entrance had been covered, but we pushed through it, leaping en masse to the darkness within.

They tumbled down through the hole. One of them broke his ankle, but it did not matter. The darkness around was a pale shadow to that which now filled us...

I jumped down last. My arms were full of the most important items. My fall was broken by the soft bodies beneath.

When I saw the stone table in the center of the room, my arms went limp... The novels tumbled upon the floor, along with the leatherbound book that was the key to sending 'Susan' home.

Soon, my eyes were severed, the lids replaced with fresh skin... The soft new flesh was quickly branded with the false runes of that which I now followed.

In the story, Voldemort had been a false Death-Eater, his reputation trumped up by those who had pledged him their souls.

Us, who had hoped to summon a wraith from a book, were now in the presence... in the service of a true ancient power...

We were still individuals, with our own hair and varying builds and heights.

Given time, that too would change.

##

Life had not been fair to me. I had wanted to break something. What I'd broken was myself.


	4. Sidewalk

BtVS by Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Discworld and denizens by their author, Sir Terry Pratchett.

Thanks to reviewer Kiwikatipo who, among other things, pointed out how Faith would take one of Xander's lines.

* * *

**Faith Lehane:**

##

"Hey, company approaches," I said, pointing out Xander and a wintry blond girl with a black streak in her hair as they emerged from the night.

Giles and I were sitting on the front step of his house, talking after a late patrol. Things had started seeming better since Christmas. I was relaxed in a way I hadn't been in a long time.

Giles looked up. "Seems so. I don't recognize the young woman but then Xander does tend to attract things that are at least female in _shape_."

I laughed, having heard some of the horror stories. As they came closer, my eyes kept straying to her hair. There weren't a lot of people who could pull off the reverse Bride of Frankenstein look and, thanks to my already crappy tv having giving up the ghost, I'd been reading a lot about one in particular lately.

Apparently in response to my gaze, the mass of hair on top of her head began to reshape itself into a more contemporary look...

"Hey guys, I stopped some bad guys from destroying the world and accidentally summoned her," Xander said in a rush. "Susan, this is Giles the Watcher-trained Librarian and Faith the Accomplice Slayer."

My fist clenched in response, despite my attention being elsewhere. I'm a Slayer in my own right, thank you very much.

"Guys, this is the mysterious-" Xander turned to face her and trailed off, his jaw dropping in shock.

Speechless, we watched the last strands of Susan's hair finish braiding themselves. Signs were definitely pointing to this being _her_, but I still wasn't exactly convinced. She could still have been some obscure legend from our world that Pratchett based his work on, which meant her personality and powers could be completely different...

Following our looks, she reached back to feel the new style and grimaced, apparently ashamed at the lack of control. "Thanks for showing me your friends, Xander. We can come back later, research, but I really don't have time for this now..."

She put her fingers to her mouth and blew a pure, clear sound. The tone wasn't exactly something easily made by flesh, seeming more in keeping with whistles made from ivory white bone.

A horse stepped down from the sky behind the house and walked to the sidewalk in front of us, a trail of fire burning in the air, each hoof-print an inferno.

##

It was a skeleton, filled with orange lava, its eyes pure heat. The vapor jetting from its nostrils was not steam but pure bone-chilling mist.

"Oh, poor Binky, what have they done to you?" Susan asked, petting the head of the monster. Despite myself, I felt my face split in a wide grin. Suspicions pretty much confirmed.

"The demon horse of Azrael, Angel of Death, is named _Binky_?" Giles asked, astounded, having apparently recognized the shape of the beast. He thought about this a second, then continued angrily: "Listen, girl, this isn't the Discworld! Just because you read about something in a _novel_ doesn't mean you can act that way around the_ real_ thing and expect it to act..."

Catching the real joy on my face from the corner of his eye, the Watcher trailed off and turned to face me. Knowing that I'd been reading the books more recently than him, he looked down in deep thought. Looking up again, he met the gaze of Susan Sto-Helit. "Oh... My... Lord... I'm from the same country as your, uh, author and I'd be honored if I could have your autograph-"

"Oh, wow! It's you," I shouted. "The _real_ you. You're one of my heroes. The way you _knew _that the stick wouldn't kill your grandfather, but pass right through him..."

"What?" I asked, catching Xander's surprise. "Dragons, werewolves, witches, War... A Death who speaks in capital letters and whose adopted granddaughter is standing right in front of us? Reading takes me out of where I'm at... It's not like watching static's fun..."

Xander waved his hands. "No, surprised more at her being from a book than finding out anything about you. Not like you had any choice but to pack light." Catching my slight wince, he hastily continued. "Uh, so she's dead by heredity - I mean, death runs in her family... Oh, whatever! Look, the cultists were attempting to summon Mr. Wraithy No-Pants from the Harry Potter books so another genre really isn't any more far fetched," he hedged. "Can't say I've heard of Descending-World myself, but..."

"Ahem, Xander," Giles coughed. "Think about the fantasy book you 'borrowed' from my collection and tried to pass off as a 'Demon Reference Manual' when I found you hiding in the back stacks. The one with the humorous cover?"

Xander squinched up his face in thought. "Oh, yeah. Definitely not a night I was eager to get home to the Harris family and all its chaos. Sorry, it's, y'know, a _British_ print, chock full of single quotes surrounding lines of dialog instead of good ol' double quotes. Gave it about thirty pages before deciding it really wasn't- Um, Xander shutting up now. Though he wouldn't mind a brief refresher."

Giles sighed, brushing his hand against his forehead.

I began to describe the Discworld magic and cosmology but, when I got to the Disc being carried on the back of the four elephants standing on the shell of the Great Turtle A'Tuin as it swam through space, Xander choked back a laugh.

Susan spun to face him, a dark look in her eyes. "Bad idea. I get that this place is different from my world, but don't laugh about the Turtle, or dismiss such beings off-hand." She paused, then intoned in an altogether different sort of voice: "**I HAVE SEEN THE SAND IN THE TURTLE'S LIFETIMER AND I KNOW IT MOVES.**"

Her using her voice and some fraction of her _look_ sent shivers down my spine. The expression on Xander's face was priceless.

"This is simply incredible," Giles exclaimed. He peered closely at Susan's face, apparently trying to follow the three lines that were going to be hard to find now that she was calm. The marks her grandfather had left on her father when he'd dared to make away with Death's adopted daughter. _Yeah,_ I thought. _This world just got a lot more awesome._

"You're the librarian," Susan admonished as she climbed onto the skeletal horse and, much to Xander's apparent surprise, pulled him up to sit behind her. "You really should take a closer look at how deep books go."

##

As Susan and company ascended into the air, a fiery streak marking their departure, I knew I'd be too excited to get much sleep that night...

* * *

**Xander Harris:**

##

As we headed to a place where Death apparently lived, I leaned into Susan, trying not to think about where we were.

I really did not want to fall off the horse. It was a long way down and we were traveling at speeds that meant the wind would've been whipping at my eyes if physics had been paying attention to us.

The fiery creature was, paradoxically, ice cold to the touch.

The emptiness of space when the chairs are picked up and the lights are turned out and the world is done.

After a good amount of silence, Susan spoke up. "I gather that this world runs differently than mine. What is it called? Didn't seem the time to ask before."

"The place we just came from is Sunnydale, California and right now we're following the curve of Earth. I would like to point out that it's January, nineteen ninety-nine A.D., " I answered, covering all the bases. "Just in case time travel's involved."

As she turned her head to look at me out of the corner of her eye, I caught a glimpse of her smirk. She gave a date within what she called 'The Century of the Fruitbat,' and waited for me to continue.

I was still explaining portions of my grasp of physics and astronomy, or the basic equivalent, when we reached a point above part of the Atlantic where the sun was beginning to rise.

Susan shuddered visibly as the first rays of light hit her and illuminated the ocean deep below. "I know that light is slowed by the Disc's magical field, especially in concentrated regions, but this is the first time I actually understand what that _means. _When I first heard about the Omnian heliocentric fallacy it took me a long time to work out how anyone could actually believe it. I've always had a good grasp of distance. When we get to my grandfather's house, what you might see as small rooms connected by doorways, I'll see as lone rectangles of carpet and tile in the centers of empty theaters worth of space. And that sun is very very far away."

In hopes of comforting her, I reached up and patted her shoulder.

"This world feels strange," she said, coming back to herself. "If you don't mind, when we get back to Sunnydale, I'll set up a few temporary internal barriers until I get a better bearing on this world. Right now, I think we need to turn... _Here._"

##

There was a solid swirl and then we were dismounting in an entirely new place.

There was no way we could tell whether the place was real and in that condition because it had always been that way, or because it was based on images from Susan's head that she had expected to see, changed to reflect my dimension's reality.

The sky was black; the mountains in the distance were outlined in chalk. The house was squat, barely more than a shack, and it had a bite taken out of it.

A_ large_ one.

Most of the roof and a fair amount of the rooms had been unevenly severed from the base of the house and presumably lifted into the queerly heavy sky.

"No!" Susan yelled, racing around behind the house.

Of course I ran after her. I didn't wanting to be left alone in the empty place.

The horse of the Angel of Death followed us, crying sulfuric tears.

##

By the time I reached her, she'd finished feeling the bark of a tall tree and was sinking to the ground in hysterical laughter. "Thank... the... gods..."

Skeleton fish floated belly up in a nearby pond as I waited for her to calm down.

"I'm sorry, I'm just relieved," she said, wiping her face of nervous tears. "My grandfather made a swing for me and the board was as long as this trunk. He tied one rope to this branch here and the other rope to this one on the other side of the tree..."

"He then sawed clear through the tree, right about here," she said, standing on tiptoes to touch the spot. "Then he cut it through here, by the ground, leaving only a stump, because it was the best way to get the largest and safest swing through the tree... Only the best for his little girl."

"Because, you see, he didn't quite understand life or physics and because this was his world, the top of the tree just floated here, the ropes tied to the branches, the swing going back and forth underneath it, and the tree bore fruit every year." She paused, then continued in a happier voice. "But! This tree is intact, not a scratch on it, so this isn't _his_ world, or mine... Although the leaves are wilted... and the house..."

"Oh, hell," Susan whispered quietly to herself as something made itself known in the silence.

I looked at her, compassionately. Whatever had been in this house was ages gone.

"My... Your version of grandfather," Susan stammered, feeling the event and the pain that had happened here, millennia ago. "This Death, was _eaten_."

##

In this place, where no-one had ever_ lived_... Susan leaned into me and cried.


	5. Library III

BtVS by Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Discworld and denizens by their author, Sir Terry Pratchett.

Thanks to my friend Ian for bringing the Heinlein book to my attention.

* * *

**Susan Sto-Helit:**

##

I cried with closed eyes, until I looked up into his face.

I dried my tears. Xander, realizing I was okay, drew back and allowed me to stand up.

Taking stock of my feelings, I decided that my strong reaction to the death of, what amounted to, a distant great-uncle, happened because the environment stank of emotions, violent and raw.

My grandfather was okay, back home.

I could do nothing to help this long vanished version of Death, besides possibly disrupting his killer and making sure to bring home a detailed description of the _thing_... if I ever made it back.

I brushed myself off and strode determinedly towards the broken house, knowing that it was mainly created from images in my mind and truly _couldn't _be there.

Xander followed a step behind, but still the hut seemed to recede before us; the mountains in the distance shrinking as well.

"Why is it getting farther away?" he asked, surprised.

"It's not," I answered. "It's getting smaller."

Sure enough, when we were barely a meter away, all of the wooden structure finished turning in upon itself.

The last thing that remained in that place, besides the tree, was an umbrella stand with a single dark pole sticking out of it.

Smiling faintly, I grasped the pole and withdrew the familiar object.

It was a scythe, the blade so fine it was barely there. You did not see the form of it, so much as the air molecules that, on flowing past it, found themselves sliced in two and dying little atomic deaths.

"Nice," was the only thing the impressed Xander could say, for a few seconds. "Could you maybe cut a few years from the next bit of my life and make me suave and older? No, cancel that. I'd die sooner. I'm trying to max out my lifespan. Which brings up the question why I'm even on the Hellmouth."

I sighed, giving into the temptation to ask for exposition. "What's a Hellmouth?"

"Oh, demon central. All the dark forces of the various Hell dimensions want to swarm out of here first in order to conquer the planet. Make that here as in Sunnydale, not 'here' as in, this... place... wasn't there a place here a second ago?" he asked, waving his hand through the mist in front of us.

I sighed and called 'Binky' over to us. Together, we climbed upon the skeletal horse.

"Maybe I'm going to have to find another name for you," I whispered into the horse's ear. "The Binky of my world is a living white stallion. Plus, my Grandfather back in my world has always harbored some strange ideas..."

The horse nickered, the sound of suns dying. I decided that it roughly meant: A name given by any version of Death is good enough for me.

"Smart horse," I murmured and rubbed the imposing creature behind an eye-socket.

All too soon we were back in the skies above Sunnydale. Although we'd left in the dead of night, a mid-morning sun greeted our arrival...

##

Xander spotted a sandwich shop and talked me into dropping him off inside. He stood in line, picked up the food, paid the money, then hopped back on the horse, using the counter for balance.

We ate our meal on a rooftop a few blocks away. Both of us were lost in thought.

"The demons in my world mainly keep to themselves," was one of the things I said. "The main outside _things_ we have to worry about are the impossible things that can never be. They try to destroy the world so they can live. Squid and bear things that would crash under their own weight given enough physics. The cold place between worlds."

I ate in silence for a bit, allowing my words to sink in, before continuing. "They're always a constant pressure, but not one I really worry about; they're mainly attracted to wizards. Now the auditors are stubborn and they've targeted my family specifically, but they've been quiet since they set off the Apocalypse awhile back."

"Really? I thought your granddad would have been all for riding out. No offense meant."

"He did," I grinned fiercely. "Him and the _whole_ gang."

I guess I was worrying him, because he gulped down a bite of sandwich and edged slightly away from me. This gave him a different view of my face. "Hey," he said, tentatively. "Those red scars, they've pretty much faded into nothing."

"It happens. They really only show up when I'm under extreme stress." I sighed, thinking of the destruction I'd seen. "You wouldn't happen to have seen any dark and empty cloaks out to destroy all life because they love the pure order of stars and hate the chaos of life, by any chance?"

"Nope. That motive's pretty rare around here. We deal mostly with things that want to make a better world for themselves no matter how many people they have to kill to do it. Their kind of chaos, so to speak."

I nodded, wondering about the darkness that had jumped me. Had it been the dark energies of this 'Hellmouth', or something self-aware? _Oh, that's right..._

I sighed and finally explained what had happened mid-moment, along with how the experience normally went.

Xander didn't have any specific information, so we left for the library.

##

Sure enough, Giles was already there, hard at work. He looked up from his book and jumped to his feet, yelling: "You can't bring a horse in here! It's a public library."

I gave him just a fragment of my stare.

He paused, then took off his glasses and polished them. "I'm sorry," he said. "No digestive system. He can stay. Carry on. Ahem."

As the librarian sat down, Xander snuck around behind him to read the open book on the desk. "Giles, man! You can't go playing around with Revelations _stuff._ We've got enough problems with Hellmouthy prophecies!"

"Xander, I appreciate your concern," Giles sighed, before turning around in his chair to meet the younger man's eyes. "However, 'The Number of the Beast' by Robert A. Heinlein, is about moving between worlds. It theorizes that there are 6^6^6 universes and those with different laws of physics, sufficiently removed from ours, may be classified as _ficta_. Realities that manifest as literal versions of our works of fiction."

"I've always liked how you can do 'underlines' and 'italics' with your voice. It's impressive," Xander said, then smiled at Giles' expression and my muffled snort. He continued, craning his head for a better look at the page: "That would explain why they're walking around 'The Marvelous Land of Oz.'"

"Yes, well," Giles said, marking his place in the book, before picking it up and gesturing with it. "It is in itself a work of fiction, so I'm taking the material with a grain of salt."

"So far, I've come across no sure method of sending you back, my lady," the librarian told me, regretfully. "As myself and Faith are already well-versed in the Disc's printed material, I've assigned Buffy and, inadvertently, Joyce, to read through them in case anything pops out. I assume these... 'cultists'... brought you here against your will and, what remains of the circle... Well, let me show you."

Giles rose to his feet and climbed the stairs, disappearing into the stacks.

I met Xander's eyes and, seeing his shrug, we followed the man.

##

There were no real clues to be found in the pile of ash, no dropped wallets or anything of the sort. It seemed one of the robed men had gotten a nosebleed in the scuffle, but tracking through ritual link wasn't one of the Scoobies' strong suits. In short, Giles could tell us nothing else until we had acted out the series of events and Xander explained what had been here before the cultists had gathered their stuff and left.

The reenactment went well, only six books were knocked off the shelves and they weren't very damaged.

I, for one, was afraid we'd reached a dead end.

I had just begun miming how I'd drawn the frozen Xander from the circle, when Binky let out a fearsome whinny from the main part of the library, so we ran from the stacks to get a better look.

The demon horse had pinned two robed humanoids against the wall. When it noticed me, it reared back on its hind legs, rolled its fiery orbs and snorted, as if to say: Should I dismember these guys for you? It'd be a pleasure.

Giles took a few steps back in shock. "Oh heavens! The marks on their eyes. They're Bringers."

Xander dove, tackling Giles out of the way of a swinging spiked club, as two other eyeless figures emerged from the stacks.

Two more ran towards me, but they'd lost the element of surprise and I'd already drawn my scythe. Extending the cold blade to its full length, I swung, cutting a spiked club neatly in two. As it clattered to the floor I noticed exactly how makeshift it was, probably a repurposed piece of sporting equipment.

Coming to a complete halt, the Bringer whose weapon I'd split 'stared' at my blade and my smirk before sinking to its knees. There was a clattering of weapons as all of the hooded figures, even the ones menaced by Binky, sunk to their knees and began muttering.

"That's right." I stared down at the two in front of me. "Weren't expecting me to be armed? Hey, Xander, I think we've found what's left of the summoners."

"Yep, and that one right there used to be the leader of the pack. I stared right into that ugly mug while I held his knife. Not something I'd soon forget," Xander stated. "Funny, I'd thought Little Miss 'First Evil' would have been lying low since her plan failed and Buffy dispatched her last bunch of recruits. Looks like the little bad went and chose these guys as her new cannon fodder."

Shaking his head, Giles armed himself. "Apparently that particular force has found some fresh reason to exert itself. Susan, if you could put that blade to good use, let's secure these six until we can figure out what to do with them."

Nodding, I held my blade steady in front of one of the kneeling Bringers' necks as Giles grabbed him by the collar and started dragging him to the library cage. As we repeated the process for all of them, a horrible sense of cloying air as if my movements were being slowed and restricted, my arms dragging, began to fill me. I waved a hand in front of my face just to confirm that it was just in my head, that I was actually moving at normal speed as the chanting I'd been hearing in the background rose to a crescendo.

The Bringers, while having made no move to stand, had formed themselves into a loose circle.

"Right," I said firmly. "I get the feeling that if I tried to step outside time in this atmosphere then there'd be no coming back. Who knows what the other half of them are doing, wherever they are."

"Decent chance that this is all they can do. Given that we're awake and solid in this time and place, their Master can't exactly touch us. We do need to keep our eyes peeled for immaterial forms of dead people and I, for one, hope to resolve this before I sleep tonight." Shuddering, Giles removed his glasses and began to polish them. "We can only hope that, either from lack of imagination or because of ritual significance, they've housed themselves in themselves in the same spot as those poor sods who summoned the First Evil this holiday season."

"Oh," I asked, wanting to distract myself from the presence they were exuding. Which season?"

Giles smiled, apparently happy for the opportunity to lecture. "It's Christmas, which happens just before New Year's. Our man in red is named Santa Claus and he's pulled by reindeer. It's called Christmas because it is also the birth of the Messiah... Think some of the practices and tenants of Omnism, but with the God at the head being pure, holy, and the True Creator."

"Then add the True Creator's one and only Son into the picture with the cross representing his sacrificial death and Resurrection as the central holy symbol. _Then_," Giles continued, his voice inflected and rising towards what would probably be a punch line. "Add several schisms along the lines of the licorice tribe..."

He waited for a positive reaction, but received none from us. Crickets might have chirped.

"Oh yes, sorry. Ahem. It was a footnote in the book... Susan," Giles frowned, then smiled again. "You know the battles going on in your world because one tribe believes that a certain holy text has the cartouche for 'God' in the key position and the other one has 'Man'? Remember how Ankh-Morpork scholars believe that a flyspeck from an insect landing on the original text has been the cause of so much death and destruction?"

"Yes..." I hazarded.

"Now take the suspected flyspeck in question and move it around a bit..."

I frowned for a few seconds in concentration, as I performed the operation, then I went a bit further and began to seriously crack up. "No, seriously," I managed to gasp out. "Licorice is one of the more _polite_ permutations."

Xander shrugged. "I'm not sure I get it, so I'll go for the thing that bothers me most: What does he have instead of reindeer?"

Giles' grin widened further. "Well, their Santa Claus is actually an elder god with a sleigh pulled by hogs. He's appropriately named Hogfather and-"

"Whoa, whoa! Back up. _Elder God_?" Xander's face paled. "You mean Cthulhu-shit with tentacles? A friggin' squidhead jumping down chimneys and leaving presents?"

Giles growled. "No, no, lowercase 'elder god'. Human in form and... Oh, never mind!"

##

"So," I asked. "What do we do with this bunch? We can't exactly leave them in here, locked up, without knowing how strong they are. I doubt that the simple shock of us storming in and breaking up the other possible circle would be enough to turn them human again."

Giles snapped his fingers. "Excellent idea, there was nothing to be done for the last group, but these still have hair and they're not uniform yet, which means they're not too far gone. I'm sure that with time and research I can figure out a suitable spell."

"Time which we may not have." I frowned, turning to face the Bringers. "If they're still shifting, we need to be prepared for them gaining physical strength or worse. Especially if, given the prospect of being returned to human form, they stage a mass breakout while we're distracted. What we need to do is suspend them from this grating, a foot above the ground and lean some thick board behind their legs so they can't gain leverage from the wires."

I turned around to find Xander with an odd smile on his face.

"Hey, Giles," he asked. "What's Faith's phone number?"

Tilting his head to one side, Giles rattled off a string of numbers. Catching my own odd look, he shrugged and explained. "Advanced form of clacks. Oh, Xander, after you're done, I probably should call the Summers' residence as well as Willow so they can pick her up and take her back to their place. It's unlikely that they're targets as much of the attention seems to be focused on either yourself or Ms. Sto-Helit, unless there's another reason for the attack on the library, but we can't be too careful."

"Good idea." Xander smiled as he manipulated some kind of device on the desk. After the extended pause it apparently took Faith to reach her 'phone', Xander began speaking. "Hey, Faith. It's me. Remember the stuff you were bragging about? No, the other stuff. Can you meet us at the library with six pairs of handcuffs? We have prisoners. Good, thanks."

Hanging up, he caught the stares headed his way. "What? She's in training. We need restraints. I don't have any, and Giles frankly doesn't seem the type."

The librarian removed his glasses and began to polish them, probably to avoid eye contact as much as anything else.

The Bringers' constant communion was getting on my nerves at that point, so I came to a decision. "We need some peace and quiet if we're going to get any research done before she arrives. Binky," I said, turning to face the proud and fiery horse with a smile on my face. "Could you please distract them for awhile?"

Ducking his head pleasantly, the demon horse turned and walked through the side of the library cage as if the physical structure wasn't there.

I smirked as he advanced on the rocking figures. "This should be fun..."

##

They stared at his approach, with eyes sealed shut. Things were looking up.


	6. Apartment

BtVS by Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Discworld and denizens by their author, Sir Terry Pratchett.

* * *

**Xander Harris:**

##

We all were worrying about the same eyeless bunch of things.

Faith arrived and, with her added strength, we set up things the way Susan wanted them, right down to the numbers written on the foreheads of the captives.

Confident of a job well done, Faith stepped back and admired the impressive horse.

Catching the Slayer's rapt expression, I pulled Susan to one side. "Hey, sorry to ask this, but... That girl over there has gone through an extremely rough time. She's the only one of us here without family and, from what she_ doesn't_ say about the home she left... Do you think that, maybe, your friend over there could give her, I don't know, a new perspective on the world?"

Susan though about this a second, then walked over and whispered something into one of Binky's ears.

After looking sidelong at Faith the horse snorted, rolled its eyes and butted its head against Susan's hand. It shook itself from side to side and stomped the ground with one foot... as if to say: Okay... Fine... But don't expect me to do this when you're gone.

It let loose a bone chilling whinny and increased its heat. It reared back on its hind legs, twin trails of flame marking the path its head traveled through. When it stretched, it truly had an impressive height. This display of power probably meant: **I mean it.**

After that, our version of Binky cut the heat of its eyes to normal and sank its hooves back to the ground. There was a slight overlap from it phasing through the floor, before it pulled its feet back up.

Susan walked up to it, stretching out her hand. When the horse began to nuzzle her, she stroked its skeletal head. I could just barely hear her whisper: "You truly are my grandfather's horse."

It knickered appreciatively, the sound of hot cocoa and a warm fire welcoming you home.

After a series of explanations and one last wink in my direction, Faith rode the horse out of sight.

I noticed Susan appraising me and kind of ducked my head to avoid meeting her gaze.

##

Heh. Eye contact would soon be the least of my worries.

* * *

**Faith Lehane:**

##

Act like Buffy. What would Buffy do? Yeah, right.

I was in a cramped dark space. A hood was covering my head. My hands were stuck behind my back and I knew that somewhere, above my head, there was a key to the handcuffs glittering in the darkness.

I struggled to slip the handcuffs down behind my bound legs and up in front of me so I could move somewhat freely, but I couldn't get the angle quite right.

I was considering dislocating my shoulder - again - when, in the other room, the phone began to ring.

I swore and applied my Slayer strength until the handcuffs simply snapped. This completely wrecked the test, as I really hadn't wanted to break them.

Tearing off the hood and slipping the rope from my feet, I flung open the door to my closet and stomped over to answer the phone.

Sure enough, it was Xander asking me to show up at the library with handcuffs, apparently there was a situation.

_Hmm... Seven pairs left._

I decided to bring that one too. I was very glad I'd stolen so many. Hey, a girl's got to have some fun, right?

##

My first impression of Binky was a good one.

While we were talking about securing the prisoners, it noticed that one of the six Bringers was edging towards escape. It took it upon itself to fix the problem.

The demon horse leaned in very close to the luckless ex-human and, with a single snort of his nostrils, froze his shirt to the flesh of his chest...

Needless to say, I loved the horse.

##

Sure, I was completely floored when I was given the offer to take Binky for a ride, but I wasn't about to pass it up.

Interrogation of magical prisoners? Not my thing. Bring on the adventure.

I winked at Xander, because I knew the resident nice guy must have had something to do with a plan like that.

"No shit? Well, thanks! I'm off so-" I said, looking from Susan to Xander as I mounted the horse. "Act like me while I'm gone, alright?"

A character from a book had come into my life, borne on the back of the version of her steed from my universe. I had hopes that she would be headed home soon, leaving the demon in my care. It was a nice dream, but, even then I knew that it couldn't last forever.

##

As we were leaving, I had time to notice Xander's embarrassed reaction to Susan's curious gaze.

_Hmm, _I thought._ I'm gonna have to do that guy a favor, one of these days. Right now I'm going to do what any red-blooded American woman would do with a free ride on Death's horse. Meet the Easter Bunny._

She's real. Go figure.

I also went back a bit in time to see exactly what had screwed up my parents' lives so much. I probably shouldn't have, but... What I saw and what I could've done would really gnaw at my mind over the next couple of weeks.

It wasn't like I had to steer through reality. Binky was a smart horse. All I had to do was lay out the background and we arrived at my house at, as far as he could tell, the time he felt was right.

I should've known, from the fact that he was a horse of Death, what would've felt right to him…

##

We landed in my old living room. It took me a few seconds to place the girl of about five or six as me. The braids confused the issue. My mom never had taken the time to fix them up like that, as far as I could remember.

The older girl with the long black hair, standing there in bare feet, talking on the phone, was familiar but I couldn't remember her name. My memories kept blurring her with the babysitter that my mom would leave me with when she was looking for work. Our dad was a carpenter and there were nights on end where he wouldn't come home, even then, before my mom started abusing herself.

As I sat there on Binky, studying her face, my younger self got up from the couch and wandered into the kitchen through the hanging curtain. A few seconds later there was a high-pitched scream and the sound of myself shouting: "_Danielle_!"

_My sister_, I thought, the certainty filling me as I urged Binky into the kitchen, the wall giving no resistance. Danielle, having hastily shoved the phone on the hook, arrived there shortly after, to find my younger self trying to put out the fire that was leaping up to the window curtains. A few seconds glance told the story, someone had been frying breakfast and left a dish towel to close to the stove.

As my older sister joined in the fight, an open milk carton and other meal fixings were upended, forming a slippery mess on the tile floor. "This isn't working! Come on," Danielle said, shutting off the gas as she grabbed my past self's arm and started dragging her from the room. "We need to get help."

They charged out, arm in arm, the apartment door swinging shut behind them, having left squishy footprints across the living room carpet. Sighing, I dismounted Binky. When my feet were on the ground I made to lift my hand from his bony flank

to be filled with _a sense of doom_

When I came back to myself my hand was still firmly planted on his side, his ears flicking in concern. "Okay," I said. "When in the past, I need to keep in constant contact with you. Got it. I can do most of this one handed."

Grabbing the fire extinguisher which had been hung out of reach on _the other side_ of the fire, I climbed back on Binky and made short work of the disaster. Smiling, I blew off the end of the nozzle before tossing it to clang on the counter. _Really hope we had insurance,_ I mused, aiming Binky towards the stairwell. _I wonder what explanation we came up with for why the fire went out and why I don't remember-_

As Binky and I phased through the apartment door we found Danielle on the landing, her foot tapping impatiently. "What took you so long," she asked. "I feel like I've been waiting _forever._"

I blinked, surprised. "You can see us?"

She shook her head in mock shock. "You're riding the horse of the Angel of Death with a dark presence inside of you. Now, who exactly do you think that would stand out to?"

The finger that she had pressed to her lips she crooked, pointing downstairs.

A sudden chill filled me as I had Binky leap the railing and charge _downwards_, only to find a limp form being cradled by my younger self under the watchful gaze of one of my neighbors as, through another open doorway, a phone call was underway...

As my younger self's tears fell upon the vacant face of Danielle's broken body, the talkative version of my older sister descended the stairs with a sneer. "Wet feet and stairs don't mix. Do you want to know which of us slipped first? Whose _fault_ it is that I'm dead and she's there, crying? Who was hungry enough to ask-"

"Shut up," I shouted, fighting back the tears I didn't want to show. I couldn't be weak. I really wished that I'd borrowed Susan's scythe as well, but I wasn't about to try anything else against what was in front of me. "You're _not_ her. I've heard about your tricks. You're the _First_."

"That's right, but I'm just another fish trapped in the flow of time. You have the horse, you have the power. Why don't you go back and save her? Worst case is that you'll trade out the form I'm wearing for the other one, a lot sooner than otherwise. They'll all join me in time..."

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" I said the words, knowing that it could be true, if the thing calling itself the First Evil could only know the things it _saw _and the memories of those that... died... then my stepping in from the future meant she hadn't seen me coming. And, if that's how it was for me, then Susan-

"I do. You're a young woman with quite a dark passenger," she said, reaching out a hand as if to brush my leg. Before it could make contact, whether or not it was possible for her to do so, Binky turned his skeletal head towards her and snorted, his lava-filled nostrils glowing in warning.

She pulled her hand back as if she'd been burned, a look of real fear crossing the borrowed face of my sister for a split second, before she pulled herself together. She continued speaking, as if there hadn't been an interruption. "You're the Slayer, but there's something off about you. Not something I can use, not from you directly, but... you're not too far down on the chain from the one here and now, right? Something must have changed... Something I might try and use to worm myself free. No more dreaming, I'm going to have to pay extra _special_ attention for the next several years."

_Oh, shit, _I thought, doing my best to keep my expression in check. _I'm the reason why this _thing_ went after B. Well, at least _one_ of the reasons... _"Yeah, right. Let's face it. You're weak. Knowledge isn't power when you have no hands and those that follow you are cowards. You've been beat before and you'll be beat again. You're as dead as the face you wear and... you _don't matter to me._"

She screamed forcefully, her fleshy form turning inside out, revealing a much larger red-eyed form, full of shadowy horns and grasping claws. The beast disappeared, it's voice echoing _through reality._

**"****_Go from here, girl. This past does not welcome you and your future will be_**** mine."**

Filled with feelings I could not name, I departed that place of tragedy for brighter skies.

##

The refreshed memories of the past were nearly enough to put a damper on the whole trip so, to make up for it, I made a detour to present-day Boston and took care of a few loose ends.

Pretending to be a Valkyrie and scaring the pants off a few old acquaintances was a very fun way to abuse the opportunity I'd been given...

The twisted version of Binky got a kick out of it too, did I mention I loved that horse?

Eventually, we worked our way back to Sunnydale.

##

As we descended through the closed skylight, I spotted two people leaving the room. I was about to ask, but I was confronted by a witch I really didn't want to see.

Amy sneered at the impressive sight of demon and Slayer, but she probably was just jealous of me, the newest addition to the Scoobies.

The little witch, who I guess never really meshed with the gang, made a rude comment and walked out the double doors.

Binky knickered sarcastically, the sound of hot cocoa and a warm fire welcoming you home during Summer.

I agreed, but looking around the room, I was a bit put off by the destruction I'd missed. Shoving the sorrow I carried with me to the place I kept all of the things, big and small, that bugged me, I forced a broad smile on my face.

"No... Thanks for the effort, but... Wrong Slayer," I said to the singed Xander, shaking my head as I dismounted the horse. "Blowing up school property isn't acting like _me_-

##

"That's acting like _Buffy._"


	7. Library IV

BtVS by Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Discworld and denizens by their author, Sir Terry Pratchett.

* * *

**James Allbright:**

##

I could feel the presence inside my head. It spoke about the need to wait a while and assured that I'd have my chance to strike...

After the motley crew had given it some thought, I was picked out from the lot.

I guess it was either go through the lot of us safely, interrogating each one of us in turn, or go straight for the leader and get the whole puzzle at once.

'Faith', at that point, was still off riding demon Binky and likely having a wonderful time.

I appeared to take one look at Susan's scythe and decide to go quietly.

Maybe that should have been a tip-off. Bringers aren't known for 'our' self-preservation.

Maybe if any of them had seen more of 'us' by that point, they'd have picked up on it.

Oh well...

##

I was transferred to the center of a circle. They even put a second pair of handcuffs on my legs.

The spell to turn me human again went off without a hitch. I'd only been a Harbinger of Death for several hours. The eye regeneration was a shock, especially considering that my original pair was _still hanging_ in the cavern when I'd last checked... I was hoping that they'd crumbled to dust as part of a transference or something or else I was going to be obsessing in the mirror for weeks over whether my new pair had different flecks of pigment...

Mr. Giles readied a truth spell and began with something simple. "What is your name?"

I grimaced, wondering how I'd missed that the _librarian_ of all people had magical skill...

**"**_James Allbright,_**"** I said, my words literally knocking them off their feet. **"**_But what business is it of yours you f-_**"**

I broke off the sentence when I realized exactly what had just happened.

I watched, stunned into silence, as the three other humans present started rolling around the ground in pain, trying to put out the flames searing their clothing.

**"**_Oh, right..._**"** I, the leader of the attempted cultists, said, each word a puff of flame. **"**_The back-up spell she had us cast in case we were captured and turned back._**"**

##

I took stock of the situation. My legs were securely handcuffed together, yet a single fiery word singed through the chain.

I was able to rise to my feet, but my hands were still bound behind my back. Nothing I could do about that pair of handcuffs. However...

I grinned and turned to face my suspended colleagues.

**"**_Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Mo._**"** The first two were down, their bonds and the wire of the cage melted clear through.

**"**_Catch. A. Ty. Ger. By. The._**"** The remaining three hit the ground, just as the first two were running out the door.

Hearing something behind me, I spun around and caught 'Xander' square in the chest with a loud **'**_Toe_**'**.

The black-haired teen had tried to save the day, but all he had received for his troubles was a forceful ball straight in the chest, which knocked him clear across the room. Needless to say, I was really happy.

**"**_If he hollers, let him,_**"** I spat rapid fire at the prone Susan, to make sure she stayed down.

Yep, I was on a roll. Although the apparently recovered Giles was nowhere in sight...

**"**_Go,_**"** I shouted, hitting one bookcase after another in an effort to drive Giles out from hiding. **"**_Eeny!_**"**

A yelled **'**_Meeny_**'** turned another potential hiding spot into a ball of flame as I strode proudly forward, my hands still bound behind my back. **"**_Miny!_**"**

##

Then someone struck a single blow to the back of my head and I didn't feel anything for awhile...

* * *

**Rupert Giles:**

##

He stared into their unfriendly faces backed against the corner and asked: "Larry, Curly and Moe?"

"Xander!" I shouted, appalled. "Just because we need some way to identify them in case of an attempted break-out doesn't mean you can just name them after Stooges."

He shrugged and grinned faintly. "Sorry, just hoping for a reaction seeing as how menacing them in the normal ways isn't working. Can't make these things talk and I'm beginning to think they can't."

I took off my glasses and began to clean them. "I'm sure that given enough time we could find a conversation spell, but turning them human's a higher priority."

##

I had a vague idea that the First Evil would have a few tricks up its sleeve. I hadn't expected a firebreather.

Xander and I recovered from the blasting at about the same time, but there wasn't an opportunity to drag Susan to safety...

Apparently trusting me to come up with a good idea, Xander provided a distraction, allowing me to find the book that would do the most damage.

The handcuffed ginger had become overconfident in his success. He probably hadn't expected that a man my age could move so quietly.

Regardless of what he was thinking, I took him down with a blow to the back of the head from a heavy, leaden tome marked 'Vampyr'.

I paused a second to catch my breath, then shouted a sentence that put out the fire before it could spread any farther.

"My Dear Lord," I panted, shocked at the devastation.

And, at about that point, the fire suppression system came on...

##

Amy was called in for some special emergency healing. She wasn't our favorite witch, but Willow was still early in her training... And the situation was bad.

I had already removed the secondary spell from 'James Allbright' and tied him securely by the time Buffy and Willow arrived, following my belated phone call. I'd been hoping to avoid physically bringing Buffy in, considering that the 'First Evil' probably wasn't above petty vengeance if its memory of how the blonde Slayer had wrecked its last plans was reinforced. Having her conduct 'research' at home had seemed safer than having her as back-up in case of unlikely complications...

Her sympathy for the revived Xander was laced with words chiding he and I for sending Faith away and letting ourselves get into a fight with our 'merely' human strength as she 'reminded' us that we should stay at the sidelines during a battle against an unknown foe. I gritted my teeth considering it hadn't been my idea for Faith to leave and, while Buffy might have prevented the prison break had she been there, it could also have gone a lot worse...

Buffy had brought with her a selection of replacement clothes for the healed and somewhat embarrassed Susan. As it was a weekend, they headed off to the empty Women's Locker Room for some privacy and, possibly, for some small talk. She'd already, over the phone, described the exact location of the hole in the Christmas tree lot where the Bringers had been stationed before.

About then, Faith and 'Binky' arrived and Amy left the room. Faith took the time to explain her encounter with the First in the past and how she'd inadvertently attracted its interest in the Slayer line. I reassured her that it wasn't her fault. After all, plenty of recently dead people knew of the Slayers' activity in Sunnydale and Buffy dying for that short span of time before her revival had probably left its own impression...

##

I lifted the limp head of Allbright with a wary hand.

"Even though we have the probable location," I stated, frowning. "It could still be a trap, so I'd rather not advance on it until he wakes up."

"Oh, I can help with that," said a voice behind me.

I spun around to find Amy holding a bucket of water, just before she soaked the unconscious ginger.

Allbright sputtered and woke up... The ink, from the '#1' we'd written on him, running down his face...

##

He stared into our unfriendly faces surrounding him and asked: "Uh... Mo?"


	8. Empty Lot

BtVS by Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Discworld and denizens by their author, Sir Terry Pratchett.

Since I ran into writer's block, I decided to draw five runes to pace this place. They were: _(Hearty thaw, EArth above your head, Welcome strangeness, Opposite of hOme [Rune Reversed], Unusual strength of character) _ One way to write a fic :)

* * *

**Susan Sto-Helit:**

##

I stepped into the moment between times, my feet crunching on the rough ground of the empty lot.

I shivered, drawing my borrowed jacket tight around me, as I kept having_ glimpses_ of a blasted and cracked plain quite at odds with the civilization surrounding the seasonal place of business.

Sighing, I stuck my taser in my pocket. I'd only had one chance to use the interesting thing when the calm of our approach turned chaotic and I wasn't sure what would happen if I tried using it on a frozen Harbinger.

My scythe was sheathed firmly at my side. I had no plans to use it, but I also wasn't about to leave it behind.

Pulling the fine sword from the hand of the Harbinger menacing the blonde Slayer, I took a moment to admire its workmanship. Apparently they'd raided a much finer cache of weapons in the time it'd taken for us to prepare this raid.

Tilting the Harbinger on his back, I rammed a few choice blows down upon his head with the pommel of the sword, before moving onto the next most dangerous.

As I moved down the line, the hairs started rising on the back of my neck and the hair of my head started nervously reweaving itself into geometric forms. Finally, I'd had enough and I spun around, dropping the sword as I went to pull my scythe, hoping I wasn't out of-

Inside the dark cloud I could _feel_ the trapped essence of this world's Death although it seemed _lacking_ somehow as if parts had been dissolved away, or had escaped being eaten in the first place...

The _missing _pieces resonated with their counterparts within in me, begging to be made whole, and I knew what the First Evil's plan was.

##

The hollow figure swarmed across the ground, wanting to consume what made me _me_ and add it to itself for all time...

* * *

**Buffy Summers:**

##

Research read. Question time.

Susan turned out to be a bit taller than I expected from her description, but the clothes I'd brought for her fit well enough. I'd kept in mind that her hair was pure white except for a single black streak and picked my color selection accordingly. My choices seemed to please her.

This added up to Susan and I having time to talk. "While you were off with Xander," I said. "Giles dropped a pile of the Discworld books at my house and we all put some time into them. You know, I nearly envy you? You have a situation you can wrap your head around."

"What?"

"I mean..." I said, half-grinning at her expression. "Okay, you wake up one day and you find out you're Death's granddaughter. You confront him and come to terms with the situation. He's the root of your problem, but you decide he's a nice guy. You get to move on."

"There's been hundreds, maybe thousands, of Vampire Slayers before me," I continued. "I don't know how one girl gets picked out of all the rest. I have no-one I can blame for this, no-one alive at least. Your powers are hereditary. I don't even have that explanation. You're unique. I'm not. "

Susan smiled faintly. "Xander gave me the line about 'one girl chosen out of all the world to fight the forces of darkness'. I frankly think the way this world's set up is silly-"

_You're one to talk,_ I thought.

"... And rather pointless. I mean... soulless vampires? A planet that doesn't believe in magic, when there are active wizards living in it? Psychotic werewolves? I guess it could be a trade-off for advanced technology. Grandfather once mentioned a showdown he had with a reaping machine... As long as people thought of farmers in the field caring about their crops, he'd be there, cutting down one person at a time... Respecting their individuality."

"... But, if, people got it into their heads that wheat was cut down only by faceless machines... A mechanical Death might be created, chewing up souls in whole swaths. Uncaring, unfeeling," she broke off, shivering. "I wonder if that's a reason things are so wrong over here."

"Speaking about caring-" I interrupted. "You seem to attract guys, get intense while the story rolls on, but by the next one, they're gone. It could be their fault, but I've got to ask. What are your intentions towards Xander?"

That was asked in a completely serious tone of voice, with honest interest, backed by a hint of threat.

Susan, to her credit, gave it a few seconds thought, before erupting in gales of laughter that her old teachers would surely have frowned at.

I kept a straight face. For about two seconds.

When our laughter had died down, Susan wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Seriously, he's nice and all, but he is rather young. No offense."

"None taken. I just had to ask because he's_ Xander_ and he _summoned_ you. He's got a track record a mile long when it comes to superwomen. I mean, a mummy, insect lady, heck, that time he botched the love spell, he had all the girls in Sunnydale after him. I mean, putting aside the ewwness of my mom and focusing on the powered ones," I said in a rush. "You had me, two witches, a gypsy and a vampire, all chasing after him-"

"Wait. Let me get this straight," Susan said, making a stopping motion with her hands.

She continued, in an eerily familiar voice. "_When the spell had been broken I knew it was not honest love that I felt for the boy, but a false obsession that had been placed in my breast. My love for William was pure, burning brightly, free of taint. Yet, my eyes were now open to something I should've seen sooner. He was slipping from me, towards her.._."

Susan trailed off, having gotten the answer she needed from my face.

"So, this is Drusilla's home reality," she finished, in her normal voice. "Who knew?"

"Wha? How-"

"Oh," Susan said, nonchalantly. "She wandered through last week."

I just stared for a bit at the half-smirk on her face...

##

On our return to the Library, Xander raised his hand. "I don't know about all of you, but I sort of was pulled out of yesterday night and rather late at that," he said, covering a yawn with a stern look. "I think it would've been early afternoon or so for Susan but, considering I'm now several hours younger than the rest of you, this is about my _four AM_. I trust you guys to plan this out, just wake me before we go. Now, if it's alright with Giles?"

My Watcher removed his glasses and nodded so, as we began to discuss strategy and stealth, Xander closed himself up in Giles' office for a nap.

After a bit, Susan asked for two volunteers to hold up signs while she sat in a chair. I looked at her strangely, but Giles grinned and suggested I should be the second volunteer, after him.

_Maybe I should've done a better job of skimming the books or picked the one I did read through more carefully_, I thought, then dismissed the worry, realizing I hadn't had time for much else.

"This is weird," I complained to Susan, after a few seconds of standing still. "How long do you want us to stand like this?"

She remained silent, however.

"This is comparable to Granny Weatherwax's ability to fade into the foreground," Giles said, grinning. "Just be patient."

"What's about the same as what?"

"Susan trying out her famous 'ignore-me' technique."

"Oh," I said, shrugging, then stared at Susan until my eyes began to water. "Wait, wouldn't Ms. Weathervane be trying to fade into the background?"

"Weatherwax. No. People are good at searching for hidden objects, but they're not expecting to mistake a human for a lampshade," Giles said, then blinked slowly. "What brought that up?"

"Susan, who's managing to show off without actually _doing_ anything," I answered, faintly sneering. "So, what's that sign say?"

"Oh, this one?" Giles asked as he turned the sign he was showing me around to face him. "Buffy, Susan is sitting directly in front of you. What's your sign say?"

"Rupert, Susan is sitting directly in front of you."

"No, she isn't, Buffy. Now... What does your sign say?"

"That's what I read _off_ the sign. Look," I said, turning it around to show him. "It's your handwriting."

"Why so it is. It must be for when Susan does her 'ignore-me' technique."

"Well, I'm going to put this down for a bit, because my arms are getting tired," I said.

Someone with a friendly smile walked up and took the signs from us. I couldn't place the person exactly, but I decided it wasn't important.

"I hope she gets here, I mean we can't wait around all day," I griped. "You think that this could really be of help to us?"

"No, not really," Giles answered, polishing his glasses, now that he had his hands free. "The girl was so enthusiastic about it I agreed to let her try, but not only are our opponents eyeless, I don't think we can rely on any Death-based power to have full effectiveness against a group aptly named 'The Harbingers of Death'."

"Huh," Susan interrupted. "You could have briefed me on their full title _before_ they escaped."

Giles nearly jumped when she spoke up. I was slightly unsettled myself.

"I am sorry about that, my dear," Giles said, once he had recovered his poise. "My charges are Americans with short attention spans, so any name of over four syllables tends to be shortened appropriately."

"So, that means the experiment you've been having us wait around for isn't going to happen at all?" I asked, glaring at the half-smile on her face.

"Maybe some other time."

_Strange girl,_ I decided. _Very strange._

##

Walking across the empty lot, we, the Scoobies (and two friends), easily spotted the pair of Bringers posted as lookouts.

Before our unenchanted selves could get in range, the two ex-cultists jumped into the gaping hole in the ground that was the only remarkable feature of the place.

We were armed with tranquilizer darts and other non-lethal weaponry. After all, it was a search and 'rescue' mission.

Killing the young men that had been trying to end the world was slightly out of the question.

Binky had been the obvious solution, but some sort of barrier, probably built by Bringers using the mystery book, prevented him from getting too close, so we were trying the direct route.

It worked, right up until the point that we crossed an invisible perimeter and several Bringers, who had been completely buried in the dirt, exploded out of the ground.

In the first confused moments, two of the Bringers were shot with the darts, Willow's taser was turned on her and Giles received a nasty slice across an arm. Worse, I could only see eight...

That close to the hole, with no trees in the way, I could hear ominous chanting in two distinct pitches. That left-

I spun around and found myself staring directly into the point of a rapidly descending blade.

##

An eye-blink later and the Bringer was sprawled across the ground, unconscious. No action on my part required...

I turned and found that several more of our adversaries had been inexplicably disarmed, but the rest were still in fighting condition.

Susan... was sprawled on the ground, bleeding from her nose, her eyes rolled back in her head.

She was barely breathing when I picked her up.

_She's full of herself, _I thought_. She's used to fighting things vulnerable to belief. We probably wouldn't get along normally, but... Giles likes her, Faith likes her - which is odd - Xander likes her and she likes him, but not _like_ likes him, which gives her a lot of points in the sanity department. She's probably stopped as many apocalypses as I have... So it can't end like this..._

"_We need to get out of here,_" I mouthed silently. "We've got to get out of here!" I yelled, my voice ringing across the battlefield.

Bearing our wounded, we beat a hasty retreat.

##

After barely fitting through Giles' front door, I spread Susan out on the couch and the rest of us started tending to our assorted wounds.

It was a good thing that no-one without Slayer strength was standing next to Susan when she awoke. Her first movements were pretty violent.

"Shhh," I said, calmly, along with other soothing sounds until Susan's eyes focused. "It's okay."

She quickly explained how she had been attacked by the First Evil and why the being was able to confront her mid-moment. "The _thing_ was hungry, but that wasn't the worst of it. The version of my grandfather that should be here, isn't. I found signs that he was 'eaten' and, even, as that hateful being attacked me, I felt his energy entwined within it. It was horrible. To be trapped..."

"If he's really there, as a separate being," Willow announced, holding up a loosely-bound book. "We might be able to do something about it."

Everyone turned towards the aspiring witch and, after a bit, we decided it was worth a shot.

"So, how do we do it?"

##

Question asked. Research time.


	9. Mid-Moment II

BtVS by Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Discworld and denizens by their author, Sir Terry Pratchett.

* * *

**Susan Sto-Helit:**

##

Sometimes when you expect something to happen, it is more likely to happen. It's one of the ways the world works.

I understand that if I'd arrived, say, a year later, I would have found the couch in Giles' house occupied by a certain blond vampire with a habit of monopolizing the TV. If that'd happened, I'd have been exposed to Earth soap operas. That might have led to some fairly strange relationship-minded conversations. As it happened, 'Spike' was out of the country (and still an enemy) so the television was free.

Xander found a channel with cartoons. A few seconds into the show, he asked me to sit beside him. After making sure I was comfortable, he jumped up and began to bustle around the small kitchen, making popcorn.

_He did say he wanted to give me the full TV experience, before I went home,_ I thought with a sigh._ Oh well._

I looked over my shoulder at him, for a bit, before turning back to the TV.

_He is rather cute, maybe if I'd met him sooner... Might have been nice having a boyfriend who was fairly reliable, or one that wasn't a fundamental force of nature, or even one that would exist whether I believed in him or not. Although he does have rather _strange _taste in moving pictures... _I winced as a cat on-screen had his tail shoved into a fire. _You'd think that would hurt._

The cartoon cat kept on talking like nothing had happened, while the pain visibly traveled up his body, taking several seconds to reach his brain. 'Yee-Ow!'

Xander plopped into the couch beside me, carrying the finished snack, just as I was exposed to the 'running off the cliff' gag for the first time.

"You'd think they'd catch on a lot sooner," I said, as the canine looked down and very quickly lost his footing. "Or at least reality would."

"It could be a metaphor, or a warning against focusing too much on yourself at the expense of others, or even the artists going 'nude-nudge, wink-wink'," Xander said, with the appropriate motions. "We not only created these characters, we made the world too. This is how we remind you of it... Or something like that."

I stared at his unexpected insight for several seconds, until he blushed slightly.

Covering for himself, he changed the subject. "You don't seem so surprised about the tech itself. I mean, according to what Faith said, you guys just barely invented the telegraph."

"It's not a matter of technology that keeps us from making shows like this on the Disc," I said. "They tend to thin reality and there's a lot of stuff out there trying to force their way in..."

"It's probably also a matter of taste... Oh my," Giles said, approaching the couch just as someone on-screen lit a round bomb and shoved it down the cat's throat. "Speaking about the Disc, I'd thought you might like to flip through a few of the books while you're waiting for us to finish preparing."

"Thank you, but, no," I answered kindly (and firmly) as an explosion rocked the screen. "If I want to eavesdrop, I'll go to my grandfather's library."

"Oh. Very well." As Giles turned away, I could barely hear him mutter the phrase: "Though I expect these books would be safer..."

I decided that he had somewhat of a point and that I was slightly interested in the 'footnotes' as he had called them, but I'd been having a rough day and was a bit too stubborn to back down.

##

Eventually, the preparations were made.

I flicked the vial I was supposed to carry into battle. "So, what kind of potion is this?"

"It's not a potion," Willow said. "It's a spoken spell. One of those weird demonic languages that's actually liquid."

"Try being only able to speak in ruby and quartz," Amy chimed in, quite happy she'd helped with the alchemy. "Those things can hurt on the way out."

"Interesting..."

##

The assault on the lot this time was better planned. Our battle formation was a line with the heavy hitters on the sides and the magic users in the center.

A few steps into the seemingly empty yard we were attacked by most of the remaining host of Harbingers. They were too busy using their weapons to notice how we, by moving our center back and closing in from the sides, had forced them into a rough circle.

Too busy too notice, that is, until a forcefield went up with the nine Harbingers trapped inside.

As the witch-in-training and her more advanced counterpart began to fill the sphere with a flammable gas, Giles walked around it with a stick and pigment, carefully layering a ritual circle into the ground.

Descending on ropes into the cavern, Faith and Buffy held themselves steady a foot a so in the air and began prodding the ground to check for traps. Finding none, they landed and turned to face the two Harbingers that were loudly chanting further down the tunnel.

With a shout of 'Lassos away!' the Slayers sent their snares in the direction of the table. I winced as the chanting was cut off in strangled squawks which, when the Slayers started pulling, were quickly followed up by the sound of muffled explosions and falling rock until the battered, burnt and bruised Harbingers were pulled into the light of the hole, their struggling bodies having manage to set off the tripwires and pressure plates lining the tunnel. Once they were brought up to the surface and shoved into the glowing green force bubble with the other prisoners, the magic users started the ritual meant to turn the ex-cultists human again. Giles broke off from his part of the spell to give a stern warning about the gas and that if the prisoners tried any spoken fireballs, once they'd been changed back, they'd be the ones exploding.

##

Considering the next bit was against something immaterial, it was agreed that I and my scythe would handle it alone, so I started shimmying down one of the ropes.

The way was clear, until First Evil appeared in the black-haired form of Jenny Calendar, hanging from the other rope. "Good work taking away my earthly support," the apparition snarled. "But given the right motivation I can always make more. You're fighting a battle you can't win against an enemy you can't defeat. Believe me, Death's Granddaughter. I will consume you."

"Shove it," I said, brushing past the image and continuing my short descent.

I quickly found the spellbook. It was right where our captive James had said it would be, on the ground by the ceremonial table. I picked it up and tucked it away inside my coat.

"Coward," the First Evil taunted, again appearing before me. "I know all about _you. _I've eaten the memories of all of your fans whom have died over the past five years. You should be ashamed of yourself, not living up to their hopes and dreams." The sneer deepened. "Running away home, to safety, when you're the only one here who could ever hope to lay a hand on me..."

"The first time you jumped me, I wasn't prepared. The second time, I was barehanded. This time," I drawled, withdrawing my scythe and extending it to the full length. "I'm armed."

With a savage grin spread across my face, I, Susan Sto-Helit, schoolteacher, stepped outside of time in a shadowy cavern in a world foreign to me.

I half-expected the black-haired form standing before me to draw a sword and advance, but the feminine disguise abruptly shifted to a nightmarish clawed form that nearly filled the room.

It took a swipe at me but, taking a step back, I intercepted the blow with a blade that could slice the air itself.

Unexpectedly, there was a flash of light.

##

When it cleared, we were standing outside the shattered cabin of the 'eaten' Death in a place nearly devoid of colors beside black and deep black.

The hulking monster staggered in a small amount of shock. Recovering quickly, it leaped towards my much smaller form.

In that second of free time I'd put myself into battle position and my scythe, suddenly tiny compared to the evil mass in front of me, was raised to meet it. As it flew towards me I moved my weapon in a great attempt to slice the evil being in two.

Who knows, if the swing had connected it might even have worked...

##

The very land of the dreamlike place around us rose up and plucked the monster out of the air.

##

As the protruding pieces of earth slowly resolved into giant hands, they forced the First Evil on its back, like the insect it currently resembled, and held it firmly to the ground.

"Thank you, Grandfather," I muttered, shouldering my scythe for the moment so I could uncork the spell bottle.

A vile hiss filled the air as the liquid made contact. The beast snarled angrily as it unwillingly was warped and distorted into a less tangible form.

The ground beneath me roiled ominously, as if a giant monster was stirring in its sleep. It literally rippled, but nothing broke the surface, and things were calm again.

##

When the First Evil lost its internal struggle, it became an evil-looking mist. Out of the great dark cloud, a small portion suddenly condensed and fell -splat- to the ground, leaving a gaping hole behind.

The newly-formed, near liquid mass shook, writhed and resolved itself into the skeletal form of a skeleton.

Despite the heavy black cloak wrapped around it, the bony being was shivering, as if it was wracked through with some unnatural chill, or suffering from strong emotion.

It shook its skull, as if trying to clear its thoughts, then struggled to its feet.

It looked around aimlessly for a second, but when it noticed me it seemed to grin faintly, although it was a skull and could hardly do otherwise.

It took a haltering step in my direction, then weakly sank to its knees.

My scythe, forgotten, fell from my fingers to the blackened ground beneath our feet.

##

I ran to the strange apparition and kneeled in front of it. Soothing words fell from my lips as I reached out to touch a shoulder bone.

It looked up at me, kindly, and accepted my comfort, but only for a moment.

Bony fingers moved like lighting and cut three deep furrows down the side of my face. I had been marked there already, from birth, but I had no idea that it would hurt this terribly.

##

I fell back in pain and shock as the pale figure - in appearance so much like my Grandfather - rose to tower above me.

**YOU ARE A FOOL** it shouted deeply. "You came to this place and saw an emptiness because it was here, but your expectations colored it. This place looks like this only because it's a reflection of your mind. You looked at this place and saw the house of a has-been, of a Death who was and might be again. Let me assure you, that image was the house of a never-was."

I scuttled away, but it did not hesitate in its approach. It spoke in light mocking tones so unlike the ivory figure I knew and loved.

"The ground beneath our feet is the shell of my prison. That," it sneered, pointing at the cloud still hovering above. "And this pitiful form," it said, pulling at its cloak. "Are merely my Avatar. Which you have momentarily dispersed. I am merely the dreams of a much greater force. Can you hear it stir with wakefulness?"

The ground rippled again, violently enough to knock me off my feet, and I knew that my fanciful impression had been right on the mark.

"When this universe was young and the energies that might have birthed your Grandfather were free, I consumed them. They have given me much strength, they've allowed me to drive a wedge into this reality..."

The thin form of the skeleton somehow erupted into a figure twelve-feet tall. It drove its bony arms deep into the ground on either side of my suddenly prone body, pinning me in place as the skull began to grow.

"Think of the misshapen figures warming themselves at the candle of your world... I assure you, when I devour you and use your power to break the seal of my prison, this world will suffer far worse than those things could ever imagine. Your power is a twin to mine, it calls to me, allows me to touch you... It is most ironic, the fault that lies deep inside yourself, that kept from seeing things here as they truly were. Your mind came to this place, saw the emptiness and molded in a way that would reflect reality, but also let you interpret it wrongly. In the end, you defeated yourself."

The last ripple had tossed my scythe so it lay just out of arm's reach. It was all I could do to brush the tip as the grinning mouth above me opened up wide and slowly, oh so slowly, began its descent in order to swallow me whole.

##

My mind racing, I latched onto two things. First, it was talking way too much. It must have wanted me afraid and off-balance... All the previous attacks had been geared towards that and, I was sorry to admit, it'd pretty much succeeded. That probably meant it wasn't able to consume me unless I was in the right frame of mind, although considering the _oncoming teeth_ I wasn't about to discount gratuitous physical damage...

Then there was something the thing had said...

Something about the place molding to my expectations.

##

The place would have been the home of Death, had there been one living free...

_I_ was there.

The 'spirit' of my Grandfather hadn't made those hands.

The ground was the seal of the First's prison. It may have caused the ripples in its struggles to wake up and join its Avatar on this side of reality, but it hadn't made the hands that had helped me...

I had.

##

I had let myself fool myself into seeing signs of my Grandfather's absence as signs of his presence here, though here he'd never been 'born'.

That had created the abandoned house. That had channeled the unformed energies into my scythe.

The land was reshaping itself to my wishes, conscious or not.

So here, as if it was a dream, I could have the land do anything.

##

Stopping the futile attempt to retrieve my scythe, I sunk my hand deep into the loose earth I was laying on.

I pulled out a very large clump of dirt, about twice the size of my head.

The loose bits fell away, to reveal a large black round bomb, exactly like the 'cartoon' one I'd been shown. The brightly sparking fuse was already lit, in a very unrealistic manner.

_Thank you, Xander,_ I silently thought as I shoved my creation into the gaping maw of the being above me.

It stopped its motion and looked at me, curious.

##

I barely had time to get out of the way before the twisted thing exploded.

Not waiting to see what remained after the dust settled, I squinched my eyes shut and... concentrated.

_There is bare ground here, all around the site of my Grandfather's house, and that is wrong... For there should be..._ **"WHEAT."**

I opened my eyes and saw the rolling golden straw, exactly as I had imagined it. Exactly as I had recalled it from my memory of home.

It filled the half-imagined space from horizon to horizon.

##

The dark cloud of the First Evil's Avatar was broiling in the sky above me, trying to reform.

The wheat began to sing, a soft sweet lullaby.

The dark cloud dispersed widely, the bits sleepily sinking to the ground.

I smiled and turned to leave but, suddenly, some stands of wheat began to darken and die, their song turning sour.

Before I could do anything, Demon Binky flew in from elsewhere, bearing bright sparks of light.

The glowing orbs flitted over to tend to the dying wheat. In their radiance, the darkened plants healed, but as soon as they had cured one stand another started to die. Showing signs of intelligence, the pale blue spheres gathered to discuss and rearrange themselves accordingly and I realized what they were.

##

As I watched this flurry of activity, Demon Binky trotted over and nuzzled my hand.

"Thank you," I said, petting his bony head. "I don't know where or what those souls came from, but I have the feeling this reality owes you a lot. Listen," I stated, holding his head firmly and turning it to face me. "I have the feeling that if I stayed here forever I could preserve this balance and keep the First Evil asleep, but this isn't my world and I have to go home."

After a bit, during which it studied me carefully, the burning horse sadly nudged my coat. I nodded and pulled out the book that had brought me to this reality.

Resting my back against the horse, I worked my way through the thick volume, focusing mainly on the seemingly relevant bits. Around us, the wheat sang its mostly cheerful song.

When I had finished and I was mainly resolved to my course, I walked over to the lone umbrella stand that looked so out of place among the rolling fields and slid my folded scythe carefully into it. Things were off balance in that world enough as it was and I wasn't about to make further holes, although I would miss having a weapon of my own...

Sighing, I mounted Demon Binky and headed back to 'Earth'. Back to the empty lot, armed as I was with the book that would take me the rest of the way home.

##

I was somewhat heavy of heart, but what else could I do? If not the rest of the Discworld, my students needed me.

It just goes to show...

##

Sometimes things happen you expect to like. Sometimes the world works out.


	10. Sidewalk II

BtVS by Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Discworld and denizens by their author, Sir Terry Pratchett.

My thanks to reviewer litmouse for a better perspective :)

* * *

**Buffy Summers:**

_Season 3, January 1999_

##

I sat on the front steps of my house and talked with my friends about how we could help Susan go home.

My mom was frankly pleased to meet a literary figure, but she wouldn't allow the skeletal horse inside the house. It was a person, somewhat, so it didn't seem fair to talk where it couldn't hear.

Having the main conversation outside was just practical - and it wasn't like any of the neighbors would notice.

"If I'm reading this right, this book enables the bearer to summon Death and to finesse Time," Willow said, holding up the relevant passage. "If Time has been invested in something Hellmouthy, like a bunch of demons immune to paradox, I don't think it's a good idea to try our version out..."

"We should be able to contact mine," Susan began. "I've gone on several half-dates with him and-"

"Wait," Xander interrupted. "You're seeing some... I mean, you're seeing a guy with a robe and a beard unshaved since the beginning-"

"No, _her_ athletic son, who's been promoted. Well, not exactly _seeing_ him, it's slightly complicated."

"I'm sorry," Xander said, frowning, as he laid back in the grass. "Makes me wish I'd read more than thirty pages."

"That's alright," Giles said. "If I'm to understand this, if that adventure is going to be published, it hasn't been yet. So we're basically reading ahead. May I ask... Half-dates?"

"He's still learning, so he's only half-way in any given moment."

"Ahh, yes," Giles said, polishing his glasses, again. "I can see how that would be a problem."

"I thought you guys might be getting hungry, so I made a late lunch," my mom announced as she brought a fully loaded tray outside.

"Awesome!" Xander cheered as he grabbed his food.

Our friendly neighborhood gal-from-a-book accepted hers with a weak smile, probably because of how her parents had died...

_Man, she's jealous of me having a mom like Joyce, _I realized. _Here comes the happiness... and here comes the guilt._

"Here, have another crispie treat," I said, tossing the baked snack to Susan. "You've earned it, slamming the lid on a creature like that. Though, I still don't think she was all that much of a threat."

"You never know, from what you told me, her Harbingers were a lot more active this time around. Maybe what she lacked was the right motivation."

"Here's hoping we never have to find out."

##

Susan helped Willow find shortcuts through the spell, so we didn't have to sacrifice a Persian rug. Which was good because I had other plans for that money.

The collapsible volleyball net hadn't been used in years anyway...

##

The portal opened without a hitch. Susan stuck her head through for a half-second and came back out with a huge smile on her face.

_Time powers are useful,_ I thought to myself._ Why couldn't I wind up with them?_

After the first round of goodbyes, she walked up to 'Binky', rubbed the side of his skull and whispered something into his ear. By the time she turned around, the horse had already vanished into the sky.

Her next move was to drag Xander over to the portal. She leaned in, the top half of her body disappearing, then came back out with a necklace of some sort that she draped around Xander's neck.

I couldn't exactly make out what they were talking about and I didn't want to interrupt._ He's known her since, well, the middle of the night. I'm a bit of a latecomer to this story. Faith's hovering just a little too close, though, isn't she?_ I thought to myself. _Hello, rude much?_

Susan finished the conversation with a quick peck to Xander's cheek and she would have disappeared into the portal while he was still standing there, stunned, but as she was turning away, Faith touched her arm, holding her back. They spoke, too low for me to hear...

I made up my mind to ask Xander what I'd missed, because Faith's grip on Susan's arm looked just a little too strong to be friendly.

After a few more tense seconds, the portal closed, taking Susan with it, and we were alone again.

##

"Well, this is new," Giles said, nodding his head at Xander who was rolling the pendant between his fingertips.

"And this isn't," I said, watching Faith stalk down the sidewalk in a huff. She never even looked back.

"That's a shame," Giles commented. "Since Christmas she's been become more and more open, more socially integrated, if you would. I'd hate to think that this entire incident could set her back a few paces."

"Even it it does," Willow said, smiling brightly, pleased at the success of the spell. "She'll come back around eventually. We have time."

"Yes, I suppose we do..." Giles mused.

"Well, I guess it's back to the normal chaos of planning for my birthday," I announced, quite happy to change the subject to something a bit more grounded in reality.

"Yeah," Willow answered as she grinned oddly about something, quite possibly my present. "What could go wrong?"

##

_Season 5, April 2001_

##

After I got back from my vision quest and had resolved all the nonsense that had been simmering while I was away, I approached Giles with some further thoughts on what I'd heard. "When the First Slayer said that death was my gift I naturally freaked out, but do you think she could have been saying it with a big-D?" I cautiously held out a copy of 'Reaper Man' with Death on the cover.

"Fascinating." Giles rubbed his chin as he carefully chose his words. "The origins of the Slayer spirit are a mystery to me although, given enough time, I might be able to piece together a better picture. Ms. Sto-Helit did say that the First Evil had apparently been unable to consume all of the, for lack of a better term, essence of Death that had been assigned to our world. A fragment could easily have evolved or _been shaped _into your powers. It being an anthropomorphic personification of one of the basic bricks of reality could explain why it doesn't follow the normal rules for possession..."

"So, this would be why the First Evil was trying to goad Angel into killing me?" I shuddered. "It liked my taste from when I drowned and it wanted more?"

"Yes, well. Fortunately for us all... Sad as it is to say, the death of a Slayer is nothing unusual. Other than the odd splitting of the line, nothing notable has come from having you back. Which, you being here, is something I... _We_ are all very glad about."

##

_Season 5, May 2001_

##

Dying wasn't fun. It was worth it, to save my sister, but it hurt.

I had dove from the platform, felt a _moment_ of incredible pain and then I was kneeling.

The place was shapeless. I couldn't tell if my eyes, if I had them, were opened or closed.

I can barely remember talking to a group of things, or someone with a multitude of voices, about where I wanted to go, if I was to be offered a choice of Earths or Heavens.

I was surprised to learn what my mother had chosen to do. I guess Susan had affected her more than I thought. I asked if I could follow my mom and I was allowed to.

After I had made my decision, someone approached me and, reaching down, lifted my head so I could stare into their face. In the background behind the figure I could see others standing and sitting but my focus was riveted on the one who was _touching me_, who I could tell was the First Evil from how she kept switching between Jenny's face, Dru's, and _mine._

"It's a shame," she said in different pitches. "I'm almost sorry to see you go. You have no idea what a wonderful opportunity it was for me to have a resurrected Slayer walking around Earth."

"You kept trying to kill me."

"Yes," she said, letting go and walking away as things returned to being blurred and indistinct. "But I had _dibs_."

Binky arrived and carried me from that place of formless mists, to a somewhere a bit more grounded.

I guess it's not the best 'Heaven' out there, but it would still let me help my friends back on Earth. That counted for a lot.

##

I recognized my mom directly, out of all the other souls there. I'm not sure how I did as she was a little blue ball of light, pretty much the same as I was. I guess she just had a certain mom-ness about her.

We didn't have time to talk at first, because the wheat that filled the space was dying at a rate only a little bit slower than we could heal it.

"Why are we humming to this singing wheat again?" I asked her after a few days of constant work, when the wheat was as bright and healthy as we could get it. "This would probably be boring if I wasn't dead."

"It's a metaphor, honey," she conveyed, with the impression of a grin. "We believe that the world can be a better place and we're assuring the wheat that it's true. If we didn't keep their hopes up, they'd wither and die. Each stalk is keeping a tiny piece of the First Evil's mind asleep. We're just as important as the 'ground' beneath us that keeps it's undiluted essence from infecting its corporeal body."

"Wait! What do you mean_ its body?_ I thought that bug monster thing was just something made up to scare me."

"Its physical body can look like anything it wants to, sweetie. That's it right now over there," she said, indicating _Binky_ on one of his routine sweeps of the field. "No more time to talk right now, I can hear the wheat turning sour way over there," she announced, before flitting off.

"Great," I said. I'd have rolled my eyes, if I'd had any right then. "So I'm dead _and _stuck in a dream sequence."

##

_Season 6, October 2001_

##

Being raised from the dead this time was a lot worse than dying. My death had affected me. It had hurt those around me, but there hadn't been any loose ends.

This left a big one and it took me over a year to remember that it needed tying up.

There was a sudden tornado centered around me in the field of wheat. I could feel myself being stretched, as if I was about to break.

The ground below me was torn up by the force of the portal, chunks of wheat and 'dirt' rising into the 'sky' to spin along with me.

I 'looked' down and saw the essence of the First Evil, the stuff of darkness that the 'dirt' had been covering. I stared into the abyss and my mind snapped to protect me.

By the time I fully disappeared from that plane, the hole had filled in, but the wheat in that area was in sore shape. Worse, I had been marked from my time spent dead. If I had been a candle to the First Evil before because of my drowning I was now a giant spotlight trained on a sign reading 'All you can eat Buffet'. I would be a beacon calling the First Evil's consciousness to wherever I was, drowning out the wheat's song just enough for a slow, small trickle to wake and follow me...

Traumatized by what I'd seen, even for an instant, I had hid my memories of what we'd been doing behind a very thick wall. That left me with only a vague impression of being at peace and having spent the time guarding my friends from _something..._

Waking up six feet underground didn't help a bit.

Even once I clawed my way out and reunited with my family, it wasn't the same...

##

I sat on the front porch of my house, surrounded by my friends, but I just wasn't home.


End file.
